


Some Unspoken Thing

by HanukoYoukai



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Music, Misunderstandings, Music, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28887774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanukoYoukai/pseuds/HanukoYoukai
Summary: Quill just wanted Gamora to know how he felt about her. What better way could he tell her than through song?Gamora wanted to know why Quill wouldn't stop playing that noise that qualified as "music" in his backwoods part of the galaxy around her.Or: Five times Quill tried and failed to woo Gamora with music,plus one time Gamora successfully wooed him.
Relationships: Gamora/Peter Quill
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2020





	Some Unspoken Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Well this has been a trip! I've never written for Guardian's of the Galaxy before, so this was definitely a wild ride. I'm never getting these songs out of my head again. 
> 
> Art is by the amazing [Karadanvers.](https://karadanverss.tumblr.com/) Go check out their blog!
> 
> This fic was beta'd by the amazing [AuroraWest.](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraWest/profile) Go look at their works!

* * *

_ 1\. Lady In Red _

“Quill?”

Peter straightened up and adjusted his jacket, leaning against the wall as light footsteps approached. Gamora walked in, eyeing her surroundings cautiously. Little fairy lights twinkled throughout the space, and fresh flowers were set in a vase on the table.

“Hey Gamora,” Peter said, giving her his patented, lady-killer smile.

“What’s that noise?” she asked, flatly. Peter contained his outrage at her lack of enthusiasm for Chris de Burgh.

“Just a little mood music,” Peter said, shrugging. “Ever since you got that new, red armor, this song makes me think of you.”

Gamora raised an eyebrow at him. He smirked and started dancing towards her, singing along with the chorus.

“Lady in red,” he reached out and grabbed her hand, putting his free one on her hip, “is dancing with me, cheek to— _ ack! _ ”

Gamora glared at him, gripping his throat as she shoved him back towards a wall.

“We’ve been over this, Quill,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t dance.”

“Yes ma’am,” Peter choked out.

* * *

_ 2\. You’re the Inspiration _

_ “You know our love was meant to be…” _

Gamora sighed, reclining back in her chair, trying to be patient with Quill’s bizarre love of what passed for music in the backwards quadrant of the galaxy he came from. The chords were simplistic and the beat was predictable. Half the time, the music he played grated on her ears. He was getting better at choosing songs that the rest of the crew found palatable, but he kept playing very unusual songs around her, lately. Most of them centered around feelings and love, but they were just pretty words with nothing behind them. Gamora would be surprised if any of those men actually found a woman who tolerated them.

At least Quill was a man of action.

Quill leaned against the back of her chair, his elbow on her headrest and his chin in his hand. She looked up at him with a furrowed brow. He looked like he was daydreaming.

“Quill?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He sighed, a soft smile on his face.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Listen.”

_ You’re the meaning in my life, you’re the inspiration. _

Gamora watched Quill close his eyes and start bobbing his head to the beat, mouthing along to the lyrics. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch at his antics.

“I love this song,” he said, opening his eyes. He let go of her seat and drifted towards his own, swaying to the music. He sat down and flipped a few levers, plotting their next course.

“You’re ridiculous,” Gamora said, suppressing a chuckle. Quill spun his seat around and gaped at her. His eyes were wide and almost wounded.

“I’m ridiculous?”

“This music you keep playing is asinine,” Gamora continued, shrugging. Quill clutched a hand to his chest, pressing it over his heart.

“How dare you,” he said, affronted. “This is Chicago. This is one of the classics!”

“But listen to him. He’s telling this person he loves that they’re the inspiration. The inspiration for what?”

“For his life!” Quill exclaimed. “For his whole existence! Without her, what’s the point?”

“Well, if that’s the case, he really needs to think of his value as a person,” Gamora said, scoffing. “If he only finds meaning in one other person, he doesn’t have much confidence in himself or being on his own, does he?”

Quill opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words.

“He doesn’t sound like he can stand on his own two feet, either. Why would the person he’s singing to want any part in that?”

Quill stood up suddenly, much to Gamora’s surprise.

“Well, obviously you missed the whole point of the song,” he spluttered. “Can’t stand on—nope. You just don’t get it, Gamora.” He tugged on his jacket sharply and stomped out of the cockpit. Gamora watched him bemused. The song continued to play in the background.

“Quill!” she called. “How do I turn this ridiculous noise off?”

* * *

_3._ _ I’ll be There _

Peter sighed, staring at the ceiling over his bunk. His foot twitched in time with the music, and the voices of the Jacksons filled his ears. They had just left Xandar and were all enjoying a little down time. Rocket was piloting and Peter took advantage by settling down for a long, hopefully uninterrupted nap.

His eyes started drifting shut as the door opened. He groaned and sat up, then blinked.

Mantis stood in the doorway, holding her fingertips together.

“Hello Starlord,” she said. Her large, dark eyes scanned him before she stepped further into the room.

Peter sat up and twisted so his feet were on the floor. He pulled the headphones from his ears. “Hey Mantis,” he replied. “What’s up?”

Mantis stared at him. At first when she joined the crew, he found her unblinking gaze unnerving. Now he and the rest of the crew had grown used to it, with the exception of Rocket. The oversized rodent still had a problem figuring out the girl’s mannerisms. Then again, he had a hard time with most of their mannerisms, so maybe Mantis wasn’t an exception.

“I find your  _ unspoken thing _ with Gamora confusing,” she said, tilting her head. Peter felt heat creeping up his neck and he forced himself to contain his blush. She put a friendly hand on his knee, and her eyes seemed to become even larger after the contact.

“Why are you feeling embarrassment? Did I misspeak? This seems to be common knowledge around the ship. And I felt your emotions for Gamora before—”

“Okay!” Peter said, knocking her hand away. “I’m sorry I’m… um… confusing. Not sure what to do about it.”

“Perhaps you can explain it to me?” she asked. “Ego never had such strong feelings for any of the species he created offspring with. Drax had very strong feelings for his wife, but is unwilling to explain his affections to me, other than to describe how tremendous his late wife was. Rocket seems uninterested altogether, and Groot seems too young to have such feelings.”

“Mantis, that’s—really personal,” Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. Mantis’s antennae drooped.

“Oh,” she said, frowning. “Alright. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

Peter sighed and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“Wait,” he said as she started to stand up. “Sit back down.”

Mantis sat down, one antenna quirked in his direction. Peter had come to realize this meant she was curious or intrigued.

“Okay,” Peter said. “So, it’s hard to explain why I have these—these feelings—for Gamora. I usually don’t like girls this much for this long.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Peter said, frustrated. “Usually I either can sleep with them, or I can’t, and I move on. They’re boring. Gamora is—she’s different.”

“So you desire to rest in the same bunk together?” Mantis asked, curiously.

“Never mind,” Peter sighed. “That’s not the point—the thing is I don’t think I could ever get her out of my system, even if we did—um,” he glanced at Mantis and sighed, “share a bunk.” He drummed his fingers on his Zune, trying to think of how to answer her question.

“I just, I want to be part of her life, you know? I want her to know if she needs anything from me, I’ll give it to her. I want to help her when she’s struggling and be with her when she’s happy. If she calls my name, she should know I would be there for her in a heartbeat.”

Mantis hummed thoughtfully. They sat together in silence, and all the while Mantis stared at him. Peter looked around the room, discomfort building as the quiet went on, only disrupted by the quiet music crackling through his headphones.

“Did that answer your question?” he asked, once he couldn’t stand the tension anymore.

“No,” Mantis answered honestly, “but it’s a more thoughtful answer than Drax has been able to give me.”

Peter chuckled. “Fair enough. Can you go now? I’m trying to sleep.”

Mantis wiggled her fingers. “I can help, if you like.”

“No thanks,” Peter said, shaking his head. “I can manage just fine by myself.”

“Very well,” she said standing up. “Thank you for discussing this with me, Starlord.”

“Anytime,” Peter said, stretching back out on his bed as she left.

“Gamora,” he heard her say. He sat up. Mantis was in the doorway, leaving the room. “How long have you been here? Are you looking for me, or Starlord?”

“I was just passing by, Mantis,” Gamora said. Peter watched her walk past Mantis, not even looking into the room.

“Starlord and I were discussing how humans and similar species feel affection and infatuation,” Mantis went on, exiting the room. Peter felt his jaw drop.

“I’m sure your conversation must have been enlightening,” Gamora said.

“Oh it was!” Mantis replied. The door started to slide shut as Peter launched himself up from his bunk. “The thoughts that go into human affection are fascinating—”

“No, no, no,” he muttered as the door slid shut in his face. He dropped his forehead against it and groaned in despair.

Mantis wouldn’t tell her everything he said. Gamora wouldn’t be interested to hear it.

He had a hard time drifting off to sleep.

* * *

_ 4\.  Almost Paradise _

“Quill?” Gamora asked as she entered the cantina. Peter smiled as he adjusted the lights on the table, adjusting the settings so they smoothly transitioned between colors. He grinned, emboldened by his choice of music.

This was the greatest love song in the world. He remembered watching Ren and Ariel fall in love over and over again in his living room, hearing this song play as the credits rolled. They were opposites. They weren’t meant to be. She was the preacher’s daughter, and he danced. But man, when they met, the sparks flew. They enriched each other’s lives, then changed the lives of everyone who lived in that small town, just by being together. It was the greatest love story ever told.

“In here, Gamora,” he said, pouring them each a glass of Gamora’s favorite drink. He turned and grinned as he watched her enter the room, looking around curiously. Her dark eyes scanned the table, and she quirked an eyebrow at the layout. Then she glanced up as the man’s voice filled the space.

“What is this?” she asked, twisting her head when the woman joined in. Peter grinned. This was much,  _ much _ better than Lady in Red. This summed up exactly how he felt around her. It wasn’t about how she looked or how she acted. It was about how she made him feel. Every mission since they met, they had fallen in sync more and more. They shared smiles and laughs. They saved each other’s lives.

Peter was hopelessly in love with her. He could only hope she felt the same way.

“Hear me out,” he said, gesturing to the seat in front of her. She furrowed her brow and sat down. Peter cleared his throat. He found himself at a loss for words.

“Do you like the song?” he asked, grasping at it. It said what he couldn’t.

“Not really,” Gamora replied, scrunching her nose in disdain. “It’s very slow and boring. I liked it when you played Mr. Blue Sky. That was more upbeat.”

“Oh,” Peter said, blinking. “Well, this one is important because of the words.”

“I don’t like stories about people having to rely on each other,” Gamora said with a shrug. “Finding feelings of accomplishment and great happiness all centered around one person is a bit stupid, don’t you think?”

Peter felt his heart fall into his stomach.

“What?”

“Well, think about it,” Gamora said, grabbing her glass. “When you rely too heavily on one person—when your feelings for one person are too strong, that could be detrimental, couldn’t it?”

“Loving people makes you stronger,” Peter said, stunned.

“Not really,” Gamora replied. “If your happiness hinges on one person, that person could be used against you. How can you make a clear and level-headed decision if their life is on the line?” She swallowed some wine, then continued thoughtfully. “I’m not particularly close to my sister, but even that relationship tested my ability to think clearly about my actions.”

Peter blinked and shook himself.

“Oh,” he said.

“Are you going to sit down?” she asked, gesturing to the other glass.

“Yeah,” he said sitting down and grabbing his drink. He rubbed his thumb along the edge of his glass. So, Gamora didn’t do love. She didn’t see him that way, and didn’t want to. There were worse things. He had been rejected before. That unspoken thing between them would remain unspoken. It was probably for the best.

“Why did you want to know if I liked this song?” Gamora asked, giving him half a smile. Peter shrugged in response before taking a long sip of wine.

“No reason.”

* * *

_ 5\. Wicked Game _

The slow twang of electric guitar strings filled the air, strumming out a lethargic, easy melody. A smokey voice hovered over the music, singing a melancholy love story.

Gamora watched Quill with pursed lips. Every couple of minutes he heaved a great sigh, as if the weight of the universe were on his shoulders. Then he would idly flip a switch or adjust the throttle before staring listlessly out the window. He had repeated the same sad songs for the last couple of weeks, periodically humming along. His bright personality had dimmed.

Gamora was left scratching her head, wondering what the hell had happened to make her friend so depressed. It seemed like one moment, the two of them were fine. The next, they weren’t speaking to each other. She wanted them to go back to the way things were, where they could work together easily. She wanted them to have fun and laugh and flirt like they had since the beginning.

_ Well, _ she thought,  _ not the very beginning. _ In the very beginning, she attacked him for all she was worth so she could get her hands on that Infinity Stone. Then he saved her life, and things started to change. As time went on, he shared more and more of himself with her. Every joke, no matter how terrible. Every idea, no matter how improbable. She had reached the point where she knew every crack in his armor. She knew every flaw.

She also knew every strength. She knew the lengths he would go through to protect their rag-tag, delinquent team. She knew how much he would sacrifice. She knew how deeply he felt for the people that were connected to him. She bonded with him on a whole new level after Yondu passed.

_ Quill was at a complete loss when the man died saving his life. He stayed in his bunk, staring at the ceiling until Gamora forced her company on him, and he finally said the something that she felt deeply in her own heart. _

__

_ “How can I love him this much? How, after the way he treated me?” _

__

_ Gamora had never heard it put into words before. She never thought she could describe the feeling of loyalty and devotion to someone who was a monster. How long had she served Thanos, thinking the fights he demanded between her and Nebula were to teach them? How many planets did she conquer for the Mad Titan, thinking it was for the good of the universe? _

__

_ How many times did she slay someone in her father’s name, knowing deep in her heart that her mother died the same way? _

__

_ “He twisted you up,”  she told him as she stared at her knees. “You were a child, and you didn’t have anyone else.”  When she looked at him, she found him looking at her with his mouth half open and confused grief in his eyes. She steeled herself against the clench in her heart as she watched his pain play out over his face. _

__

_ “What else could you do, except love him? At least now you know he loved you, too.” _

__

They were closer. They shared a bond that Gamora didn’t want to name, some unspoken thing that stemmed from grief and necessity and grew into friendship—maybe something more. And damn it all if Gamora didn’t want that weakness—the liability. But she couldn’t seem to stay away.

Then, just when she was coming to grips with these—these  _ feelings, _ he pulled away. He was obvious about it, too. She rolled her eyes, thinking about his behavior. Sure, he would laugh at her jokes, but half-heartedly. He’d converse with her, but couldn’t meet her eyes. He just wasn’t the same.

Gamora couldn’t pinpoint the moment it happened. There was no build-up. They didn’t have a fight or any disagreements. There hadn’t even been a difficult mission recently. One day they were fine, and the next they weren’t.

It was frustrating as hell.

“Ho there,” Rocket said, tapping at his screen. “Looks like we have a guest.”

“I am Groot?” Groot asked, tapping at the sensor in front of Rocket’s face.

“You’re telling me,” the raccoon responded.

Gamora frowned and walked over to his console, examining the screen. Something was showing up on their sensors and coming in fast.

“What is it?” Gamora asked, trying to make sense of the readings. Quill was instantly on alert, turning off auto-pilot and adjusting their course.

“We’re not sticking around to find out,” he said as his eyes narrowed. Gamora sighed and sat in her seat, turning on the comm.

“Drax, Mantis,” she said, “we’ve got company.” There was static on the other end for a moment before she heard a response.

“Should we prepare a meal?” Mantis asked.

“Perhaps, but only soft food. They won’t be able to eat once my fist meets their face,” Drax growled.

“That’s not a way to greet guests,” Mantis said, tone clearly confused.

“It is when they are not invited.”

“Guys!” Gamora shouted. “Get up here!”

After about thirty seconds, Mantis and Drax dashed into the cockpit, each taking their seats.

“Get ready for evasive maneuvers!” Quill shouted, powering up the engine.

A glow of golden light flared by their windows. The thing on the sensor was gone.

“Wait,” Gamora said frowning. Quill turned around, looking perplexed.

“Wait for what?”

“It’s coming back,” Rocket said, a rough edge to his voice that betrayed his nerves.

“I know her,” Gamora continued, narrowing her eyes.

“You know what that is?” Quill demanded.

“I know  _ who _ that is,” Gamora corrected, crossing her arms over her chest. “We can’t outrun her, and we can’t outfight her. We should see what she wants.”

“What?” Rocket shouted. “Are you out of your God damned mind? You want us to sit here and wait for that thing to pummel us?”

“Why shouldn’t we invite the fight to come to us, rodent?” Drax laughed. “This glowing woman is no match for my battle skills. I will strike her down where she flies!”

“You won’t have to,” Gamora said, shaking her head. “None of us are with Thanos, nor are we doing anything wrong. She won’t take issue with us.”

“Want to clue us in, Gamora?” Quill asked, arching an eyebrow.

Gamora shrugged. “That’s Carol,” she said, nonchalantly. The others stared at her waiting for more. They would be waiting for a long time. The gold light came toward the ship again, then hovered in front of the windshield. Gamora squinted, barely able to make out the shape of a person within all the light.

“Care if I come aboard, Guardians?” a woman’s voice rang through their comm system. “I’ve got a little situation that could use your expertise.”

Gamora smirked. “That’s Captain Marvel,” she said, answering Quill’s earlier question with more depth. “She does what we do, but for less pay and against bigger baddies. She’s probably the only person in the universe who could go toe to toe with Thanos and come out alright.”

“Huh.” Quill frowned, thoughtfully. “Alright.” He opened a channel. “Hey Captain,” he said, jovially. “Welcome aboard.”

Carol boarded and met them all, raising an eyebrow at Gamora’s presence.

“I heard a child of Thanos turned over a new leaf, but I’m still amazed to see it,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

“I’m just full of surprises,” Gamora said, arching an eyebrow. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

Carol’s mouth twitched as if she were resisting the urge to smile. “I guess,” she said. “It’s not every day I let someone like you escape.”

“You didn’t  _ let _ me do anything,” Gamora scoffed. “I’m the fiercest woman in the galaxy. No one has a say in what I do but me.”

“I know,” Carol said, actually smiling. “No one else could walk away from the Mad Titan like that.”

“Um, excuse me,” Quill said, waving at them. “Captain here. Care to clue me in on what’s going on?”

Caro sat them all down to explain her dilemma with the Grandmaster. The villain’s love of games with people’s lives was causing him to reach much farther than he should, wreaking havoc on planets that had no chance against him. 

“—but Thanos has been causing problems in another quadrant, looking for something. He’s been leaving a trail of death wherever he goes. There’s only one of me, and I don’t know anyone else who can take on Thanos. I need help getting Grandmaster back to his own planet.”

“So he can torment people there?” Quill asked, arching an eyebrow. “That seems cold.”

Carol sighed and shook her head. “I don’t want it to come to that. I’ve been working on it, but there are bigger priorities—I know it sounds cruel, but—”

“We can get Grandmaster in his place,” Gamora interrupted.

Carol, relieved at Gamora’s offer of help, gave them all the information she had—where Grandmaster was going, what games he was setting up, which people were most threatened, on and on until they had all the nasty details. Gamora paid attention diligently, mapping out a plan in her head. After they came up with a loose plan, Quill and Rocket started bantering about logistics as Mantis, Groot, and Drax left to look over their supplies.

“Gamora,” Carol said, tilting her head towards the cockpit, “do you have a moment? I’d like to speak to you privately.”

Gamora nodded and stood up. She noticed Quill watching them wearily out of the corner of his eye as they left.

“What is it?” Gamora asked, eyebrow raised.

“I wanted to thank you,” Carol said. “I know you’re the only one who knows about me, and it’s not as though we left on good terms, before.”

Gamora shrugged. “You gave me a lot to think about, back then.” Carol had. She reminded Gamora of the atrocities Thanos done throughout the universe. She reminded her of the crimes he committed against her own people. Gamora knew in her heart what her father was. But to see someone else, someone powerful who was willing to stand against him gave her hope she never knew she needed.

A creak distracted her, causing both her and Carol to whirl around. Quill stood in the doorway, a nervous grin on his face.

“Everything alright, ladies?” he asked, squaring his shoulders. Carol raised an eyebrow and smirked at Quill. Gamora rolled her eyes.

“I’ve got this, Quill,” she said.

“I never said you—”

“Go.”

“What? A guy can’t be concern—”

“Go. Away.”

Quill slumped, a little pathetically. “Alright, fine,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I know when I’m not wanted.” He slunk back towards Rocket, who was shaking his head. Gamora barely heard him mutter, “Idiot,” before she turned her attention back to Carol.

“Sorry about Quill. He’s—”

“Concerned,” Carol finished for her, smiling warmly.

“I was going to say human,” Gamora countered. Carol’s smile grew.

“We’re an interesting species,” she offered. Gamora’s eyes widened.

“I thought you were Kree.”

Carol shook her head. “I was found by the Kree. But I’m human. I came from a planet called Earth.”

“Oh,” Gamora said, frowning. “Are humans from other planets, too?” Carol’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Quill says he’s from a planet called Missouri.”

Carol threw her head back and laughed. “What?”

“He told us he’s from Missouri—I had assumed this was a planet. He was quite small when he was taken, so perhaps he misremembered.”

Carol’s smile disappeared. “Oh,” she said, softly. “Humans come from Missouri. He’s not wrong,” she said, gently. “Missouri is actually on Earth.” Gamora nodded, slowly, wondering what was going through the other woman’s head.

“He’s been off, lately,” Gamora offered. “I don’t know if it’s a human thing, or something else.”

“What do you mean, off?”

“Well, he was playing all this strange, human music, before. Most of the songs were about ridiculous things. Dying for a woman, loving someone, very ludicrous tales about giving everything up for a single person. I’d never heard anything like it. Now, all of a sudden, he’s been playing wretched music about misery and loneliness, and—” she groaned when the speakers started playing that same sultry song from before. Carol looked up, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, I recognize this,” she said. “I haven’t heard this in years.”

“You know this song?” Gamora asked, incredulously.

“Sure,” Carol replied, easily. “It’s called  _ Wicked Game _ . Maria—she was someone special to me, back on Earth—she bought the single when it was released. She loved this song. We would sing it all the time.”

“Why?” Gamora asked, perplexed.

Carol shrugged. “Well, it tells a story, right? About being in love with someone who in the end isn’t going to be good for you? And that guitar is sexy.”

Gamora shook her head. “How so?”

“Well, I mean—listen to it. How is it not?” Gamora slowly shook her head. Carol scoffed. “Whatever. Me and Maria really, um,  _ enjoyed  _ this song, if you catch my meaning,” she said with a wink.

“Wait, humans use music for courting?” she asked, surprised.

“Sure,” Carol said. “You find a song that makes you think of someone and play it—it was in all the movies. There was this one where this guy held a boombox over his head to get a girl to stay with him—I don’t really remember. We watched it in theaters once, then—well then I kind of vanished.” She frowned and looked away, swallowing suddenly.

“Quill has been playing songs like that a lot, lately. Around me.”

“Oh,” Carol said, smirking. “How do you feel about that.”

Gamora couldn’t quell her blush. “I—I may be a bit of an idiot.”

Carol laughed. “Why do you say that?”

“Quill—Quill played a song love song before, and asked what I thought of it, and I told him I didn’t like stories where—where people have to rely on each other. Do you—do you think—”

“What was the song?” Carol asked.

“I’m not sure. I think it said something about paradise, and how these two people finding each other was the best thing that happened to them—later on he told me it was from the movie with the dance-off that saved the universe.”

Carol gaped at her for a moment. “ _ Footloose _ ?”

Gamora shrugged.

“Was it  _ Almost Paradise _ ?”

“That—might be correct?” Gamora said, wincing.

“Huh,” Gamora frowned. “Okay, so you rejected him. He’ll get over it—”

“I didn’t mean to reject him. I didn’t know what he meant!” Gamora said, flustered.

“Oh,” Carol offered. “So, you want to start something with him?”

Gamora blinked, thinking about it. Did she? Did she actually want to start something romantic with Quill—with Peter? She frowned. Strings were always attached to these things. Weakness was attached when people entered relationships. He could be used against her.

But then again, the feelings were there. No matter what, he could be used against her, just like she could be used against him.

“I do,” she found herself saying.

“Well, that means you have to make the next move,” Carol said, shrugging. “If you like him, you need to make it really clear you’re interested.”

“What do I do?”

“He likes those romantic movies,” Carol said, thoughtfully. “Maybe you should reenact a scene from one. Any chance we can look at his music player?”

* * *

_\+ 1._ _ Signed, Sealed, Delivered _

Peter stepped out of his bunk, confused by a bassline he heard in the distance.

“Isn’t that one of my songs?” he said, looking around. Rocket leaned against the corridor wall, arms crossed in front of his chest. He eyed the raccoon suspiciously. “Which one of you wanted to listen to my music? I thought you all thought it was garbage.”

“It is garbage,” Rocket said with a shrug. Peter rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me, Quill. I thought it was stupid, but you know. Maybe this is some dumb human ritual you’ll identify with.”

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked, eyebrows lowering in confusion. Mantis popped in from the cockpit.

“Oh! Starlord, there you are,” she said, smiling. Her antennae quivered. “I am to tell you that you are to go outside, as Stevie Wonder does not appear to be attracting your attention enough.”

“What?”

Drax emerged from behind Mantis. “Please, Quill, make it stop,” he said, groaning. “This horrible noise is grating on my eardrums.”

“Okay,” Peter said, slowly. “You’re all acting weirder than usual. Where’s Gamora?”

Mantis pressed her lips together and Rocket huffed.

“Go outside!” Mantis said, waving Peter away. Peter held his hands up in surrender and walked towards the open door, walking down the ramp towards the music.

Gamora stood a short distance away from the ramp, holding up a speaker in her hand high over her head. Her hand was on her hip, and she wore an expression of mild annoyance mixed with embarrassment. Once Peter exited the ship, and got closer to the music, he realized she was playing  _ Signed, Sealed, Delivered. _

“What are you doing?” he asked, perplexed. Gamora sighed and tilted her head, gesturing for Peter to come closer. He moved until he was close enough to touch her. “Seriously, what is this?”

“I’m—” Gamora swallowed as her cheeks flushed a darker green, “I’m courting you, apparently. Using customs from Terra—I mean, Earth.”

“What?” Peter asked, glancing between the speaker over her head and her face.

“This is what you have been trying to do, yes?” Gamora asked, impatiently.

“I mean, yes, but why are you holding—”

“It is also common to reenact scenes from romantic stories such as films, according to Carol. I am reenacting  _ Say Anything. _ But with a better song. I couldn’t tolerate the noise she suggested. This one is much better.”

“What’s  _ Say Anything _ ?”

“I feel it demonstrates my behavior and feelings—what?”

They spoke at the same time.

“I don’t know what  _ Say Anything _ is,” Peter said, smiling a little as he realized what Gamora was doing.

“Then—then this set up is pointless?” she asked, lowering the speaker. He grabbed her wrist to keep the device over their heads.

“I wouldn’t say pointless,” he said, softly. Gamora visibly swallowed, peering at him with her dark, endless eyes. Quill felt his breath catch.

“You were saying something about feelings?” he said, rubbing his thumb over her pulse point.

Gamora sighed. “Quill—”

“Peter,” Peter interjected, smile getting wider.

“Peter,” she corrected, “I have found as we have worked together and traveled together that you are very… pleasant to be around.”

“Pleasant?”

“And I would like to spend more time in your company, but with a more physical and possibly romantic relationship,” Gamora rushed to finish, scowling slightly. Peter pulled her arm down so it could rest at her side, his fingers still loosely wrapped around her wrist. He stepped closer, so they were almost nose to nose.

“I would like that, too,” he said, grinning broadly.

“Alright then,” Gamora said, nodding. “Good.”

Gamora brought her free hand up and cupped Peter’s cheek, tilting his head slightly. She rose up to the balls of her feet and pressed her mouth to his, kissing him. Peter laughed into the kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist to press her to his body. He felt warmth flooding him from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. He wasn’t sure when the last time a kiss did that sort of thing to him.

“Wow,” he whispered when they broke apart. Gamora smirked at him. Peter released her wrist so he could twine their fingers together.

“Come on, Starlord,” she said, winking at him. “How about you show me a good time.”

“Anything you say, sweetheart.”

“No,” Gamora, said wrinkling her nose.

“Darling?” Peter tried again, guiding her back towards the ship.

“No dice,” Gamora replied, shaking her head.

“Buttercup?”

The stare Gamora leveled at him would make a lesser man tremble. Quill’s knees were not knocking together, thank you very much.

“Fiercest woman in the galaxy?”

Gamora’s lips quirked up into a reluctant smile.

“How about, Gamora?” she offered, bumping his shoulder. He laughed and rubbed the back of his head.

“Gamora, works.”

“Peter?” Gamora asked, glancing up at him.

“Yeah?” the song was winding down, fading out as they walked onto the ramp.

“I’m yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Writing Notes:
> 
> 1\. This was WORK. So much WORK. 
> 
> 2\. I just love how Gamora and Quill interact, you know? They make me smile every time. I am so full of feels for them. 
> 
> 3\. It was hard to finagle the timeline for Quill and Carol, so I hope that worked out well enough for y'all. :-)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a kudos if you were entertained, and a comment to share your thoughts. If you want to come say hi, I'm [@hanuko](https://hanuko.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Feel free to drop by!


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